


John Hates Fire

by Gigi



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-29
Updated: 2018-11-29
Packaged: 2019-09-02 09:33:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16784311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gigi/pseuds/Gigi
Summary: John hated -- no,  *hates* fire, everything about it. The heat, the way it smells, how it is alive, eating everything in its path.





	John Hates Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Rating: Gen (Safe for work; there is two swear words.)
> 
> Summary:  
> John hated -- no, *hates* fire, everything about it. The heat, the way it smells, how it is alive, eating everything in its path. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own SPN. I am not writing this for money. 
> 
> Characters: John Winchester
> 
> Pairings: John Winchester/Mary Winchester

John hated -- no, *hates* fire, everything about it. The heat, the way it smells, how it is alive, eating everything in its path. Fire took the love of his life away from him. He still has nightmares of Mary looking down at him with pleading eyes, begging him to save her. But those aren't the only nightmares he has. 

He dreams of fire, of being *on* fire, and _being_ the fire. Dreams he doesn't understand, but that come back repeatedly, night after night. Dreams he _does_ understand, lasting with him throughout the day: those are the dreams that can only be chased away with the taste of alcohol. 

Something strong, to help him forget. 

He wasn't much of a drinker before Mary's death. He would have a beer or two after work or with friends, but now there were times when the alcohol was the only way he could get through the day. Those were the days when all he could think of was the warmth of the fire on his skin, the feeling of it licking at him, tasting him...and, *always*, Mary's eyes begging him.

John hates fire.

Yes, he knows now that it was a demon that killed his wife. That at least gives him hope because he could (would) kill the demon that tore his family apart. It was his right as a husband and a father. He also hates that Sam won't know his mother. 

To Sam, she is just a name and picture. He doesn't understand why he and Dean miss her so much. He doesn't understand what it is like to be without her arms around him, the warmth of her. 

John felt cold so often now without her beside him. He had to _be_ cold, to make sure him and his boys would stay alive. It wasn't fair to them -- but it had to be. 

Life wasn't fair. 

If it was fair then he would still have his Mary. There would never had been a fire. There would _be_ no monsters waiting in the dark to hurt innocent people. He wouldn't have to be a hunter that dragged his kids after him through town after town. 

They would still live in a house, rather than shitty motels. He wouldn't worry about money. Wouldn't worry about his boys. This life was forged in the hot heat of the fire that killed their mother.

John hates fire.

It was still a useful tool. So many things could only be killed with fire. John tried to avoid hunting *those* monsters in the beginning, but he still came across them far too often for his liking. It was like the fire was always pulling him back to it.

The first time John salted and burned a dead body, it tore him up inside. He didn't cry. (He was already done with crying; he had cried enough for two lifetimes.) No, he got sick from the sight of it. He isn't proud of it, but he threw up once he was away from the smell of the burning corpse.

He wished he could say that made him feel better -- but it didn't. Fire still had a hold on him. He would never shake it off. 

Which is why, when he heard about Sammy's girlfriend, it was like a knife in his gut. He didn't want fire to have a hold on Sammy like it did on him. Still, he didn't have any words of wisdom to share; he just looked at Sam knowing he too had been marked. 

His Sammy was stronger than him. He wouldn't let fire (*hunting*) rule _his_ life. 

John knew this, and sometimes - on a good night - hoped it. It wouldn't happen now that Sam had tasted, *been marked by*, the fire. Sam was too much like him. There was also too much planned for his son: The fire wanted Sam to burn, as much as It wanted John to burn.

John would burn for Dean.

He wouldn't let his oldest son die before it was his time. Even if he was scared as shit, he knew what had to be done. He would sell his soul so that Dean could live. 

This would mean that fire had finally won. It would have him. He would scream like Mary did that night. John would pay for his sins, for not protecting his wife, for leading his sons into this life -- even if it was the only way he knew to keep them alive. 

He would give in to the fire, let it make a meal of him: body and soul. 

John hates fire. But he loves his boys more. 

-the end-


End file.
